Former airman faces final battle (GALLERY)

Published: Saturday, August 17, 2013 at 01:50 PM.

A strong man — who once towered over 6 feet tall and weighed 200 pounds — lies in a hospice bed, smaller, weaker and approaching the last days of his life.

Navid Garshasb, a decorated war hero from Navarre, has fended off death and adversity many times: from his emigration from Iran in the mid-1970s to fighting battles overseas in the days and years after 9/11.

His longest battle has been with brain cancer. He was diagnosed in 2003 — in the prime of his life and his career — and given several months to live.

Now, 10 years later at the age of 49, that battle appears to be coming to a close.

But, the cancer changed the strong man of action. He had to medically retire from the Air Force in 2005 and has been largely confined to a wheelchair since.

“That was hard for him, to be a spectator and not out there helping,” Joani said.

His sons, Shahine, now 24, and Andy, now 20, remember their father before the cancer. One time a young girl at a bus stop fell through a manhole and broke her shoulder. All the children ran home to get their parents, who came out to the street.

“They were all on their cell phones and here was Dad with a ladder and a rope,” Shahine remembers.

He laid the ladder across the opening, tied the rope to it and fast-roped down the hole to haul her out — joking that she’d get a day off school and wouldn’t have any homework.

A stroke in 2011 caused some paralysis in Garshasb’s face and made it hard for him to speak. The man who had commanded six languages struggled to be understood placing his order at the drive-through.

“To see him eaten up like he was with the brain tumors, it was tough,” McMahon said.

The illness didn’t stop him, though.

He volunteered to do the yard work at his church in Navarre. He’d climb from his wheelchair to the riding lawn mower.

His family took him swimming and on the Jet Ski, where he squeezed in between his two sons.

The 25th squadron invited Garshasb out whenever he could make it for events. They tell his story to all the incoming support operatives; his photos and accomplishments are on the wall as an example of the type of airmen they should aspire to be.

At the events he was able to attend for incoming operatives, the brave ones would talk to Garshasb to see if their language skills were up to speed, and he would tell them a joke in Farsi or another language to see if they could get it.

“He came to the squadron a couple times and talked to the young guys. That was inspirational for them, to see a living legend,” said Senior Master Sgt. David Monaco, the squadron’s current superintendent.

In 2012, though, Garshasb suffered a second stroke. He had been on a bone marrow transplant list for the blood disease he’d developed, but was removed because he was thought to be too weak.

“I saw a little bit of a spark leave him then,” Joani said. “He still wanted to get better and to try to help in some way.”

Hoping for help

Last week, Joani, Andy and Shahine sat by the man they love as he lay in the hospice bed in Pensacola.

A steady stream of visitors — friends, neighbors, current and former members of the squadron — filed through the tiny room.

Joani welcomed each with a smile and open arms; she is grateful, not bitter or broken.

The cancer has been a challenge for the family: a maze of doctor’s appointments, the haze of chemotherapy, the dispensing of various pills, the caring and nursing. But they have remained positive through it all.

Their future is uncertain, however.

For years they have been “winging it” financially, as Shahine says, but a lapse in their father’s payments for his military life insurance policy during his second stroke means they may not receive any benefits when he dies.

Garshasb was medically retired with just 19 years of service, one shy of the 20 needed for full retirement benefits. Joani has had to juggle part-time jobs with the demands of caring for her husband. Their savings are nearly gone from medical bills, some of which were charged to credit cards. The mortgage payment on their house in Navarre looms.

In her spare time, Joani has been imploring her congressmen and the governor to help get her husband’s policy reinstated.

“I can’t save my husband, but I will do everything I can to save my family,” she said.

An aide in Congressman Jeff Miller's office is hopeful. Fellow airmen and friends last weekend set up an account in Garshasb’s name to raise money for the family now that he is no longer able, and many have already chipped in.

Joani says that while some people may see their situation as dire, she feels blessed.

“Every time people say we had this hard time, I’d say we’ve had 26 wonderful years of marriage and met the most wonderful people in our lives,” she said. “I may be about to lose everything, but even so I feel very rich, rich with friends, support and prayer.

A strong man — who once towered over 6 feet tall and weighed 200 pounds — lies in a hospice bed, smaller, weaker and approaching the last days of his life.

Navid Garshasb, a decorated war hero from Navarre, has fended off death and adversity many times: from his emigration from Iran in the mid-1970s to fighting battles overseas in the days and years after 9/11.

His longest battle has been with brain cancer. He was diagnosed in 2003 — in the prime of his life and his career — and given several months to live.

Now, 10 years later at the age of 49, that battle appears to be coming to a close.

But, the cancer changed the strong man of action. He had to medically retire from the Air Force in 2005 and has been largely confined to a wheelchair since.

“That was hard for him, to be a spectator and not out there helping,” Joani said.

His sons, Shahine, now 24, and Andy, now 20, remember their father before the cancer. One time a young girl at a bus stop fell through a manhole and broke her shoulder. All the children ran home to get their parents, who came out to the street.

“They were all on their cell phones and here was Dad with a ladder and a rope,” Shahine remembers.

He laid the ladder across the opening, tied the rope to it and fast-roped down the hole to haul her out — joking that she’d get a day off school and wouldn’t have any homework.

A stroke in 2011 caused some paralysis in Garshasb’s face and made it hard for him to speak. The man who had commanded six languages struggled to be understood placing his order at the drive-through.

“To see him eaten up like he was with the brain tumors, it was tough,” McMahon said.

The illness didn’t stop him, though.

He volunteered to do the yard work at his church in Navarre. He’d climb from his wheelchair to the riding lawn mower.

His family took him swimming and on the Jet Ski, where he squeezed in between his two sons.

The 25th squadron invited Garshasb out whenever he could make it for events. They tell his story to all the incoming support operatives; his photos and accomplishments are on the wall as an example of the type of airmen they should aspire to be.

At the events he was able to attend for incoming operatives, the brave ones would talk to Garshasb to see if their language skills were up to speed, and he would tell them a joke in Farsi or another language to see if they could get it.

“He came to the squadron a couple times and talked to the young guys. That was inspirational for them, to see a living legend,” said Senior Master Sgt. David Monaco, the squadron’s current superintendent.

In 2012, though, Garshasb suffered a second stroke. He had been on a bone marrow transplant list for the blood disease he’d developed, but was removed because he was thought to be too weak.

“I saw a little bit of a spark leave him then,” Joani said. “He still wanted to get better and to try to help in some way.”

Hoping for help

Last week, Joani, Andy and Shahine sat by the man they love as he lay in the hospice bed in Pensacola.

A steady stream of visitors — friends, neighbors, current and former members of the squadron — filed through the tiny room.

Joani welcomed each with a smile and open arms; she is grateful, not bitter or broken.

The cancer has been a challenge for the family: a maze of doctor’s appointments, the haze of chemotherapy, the dispensing of various pills, the caring and nursing. But they have remained positive through it all.

Their future is uncertain, however.

For years they have been “winging it” financially, as Shahine says, but a lapse in their father’s payments for his military life insurance policy during his second stroke means they may not receive any benefits when he dies.

Garshasb was medically retired with just 19 years of service, one shy of the 20 needed for full retirement benefits. Joani has had to juggle part-time jobs with the demands of caring for her husband. Their savings are nearly gone from medical bills, some of which were charged to credit cards. The mortgage payment on their house in Navarre looms.

In her spare time, Joani has been imploring her congressmen and the governor to help get her husband’s policy reinstated.

“I can’t save my husband, but I will do everything I can to save my family,” she said.

An aide in Congressman Jeff Miller's office is hopeful. Fellow airmen and friends last weekend set up an account in Garshasb’s name to raise money for the family now that he is no longer able, and many have already chipped in.

Joani says that while some people may see their situation as dire, she feels blessed.

“Every time people say we had this hard time, I’d say we’ve had 26 wonderful years of marriage and met the most wonderful people in our lives,” she said. “I may be about to lose everything, but even so I feel very rich, rich with friends, support and prayer.